


making me weak again

by dearwormwood



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, for a bit at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearwormwood/pseuds/dearwormwood
Summary: Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.- Sylvia Plath





	making me weak again

Keith, with the risk of being a little pretentious and overdramatic, felt as though he were a lone car travelling on a barren road. No, to be more specific, a lone set of headlights. Travelling across oil-slick black roads and illuminating shapes and things on the side. Things like blurs of trees, and the vague frightening shape of a person. These things weren't so much _things_ as they were impressions. You saw the blur of brown and green, and knew that a tree was meant to be there. But they all faded so fast. After all, they were only impressions.

That's how Keith felt. Like he was illuminating impressions in his life, but never actual things.

Of course, the winter chill billowing through his thread-bare jacket wasn't an impression, it was a blistering feeling. He hunched down in himself a little tighter, to conserve his own warmth. The only part of him that wasn't cold was the warm patch on his back, where the lingering heat of his laptop seeped through the fabric of his cheap Target bag.

He looked up from where he'd stared down at his feet, to see the building he was headed to only a few yards away. The warmth of relief washing over him was an impression of happiness.

Inside the glass doors, he could see the shape of a tree- no, a tree-shaped person. They wore an obnoxiously big khaki jacket, with a brilliant blue shirt underneath.

Lance. The bane of his very existence, and yet the best impression of love this blisteringly cold life could give him.

Ah, the warmth in his bones now was not the feeling of the relief. It was the lingering feeling of _want._

As Keith passed through the automatic doors, into the faux-heat of the science building, Lance looked up from his phone, clutched tightly in his hand. It had those ridiculous phone-covers on it that made it look like a Gameboy classic.

"Morning, mullet man." Lance's cheeks were still a pretty pink from the wind. Keith could only guess his were the same, if not worse, against his much fairer skin.

"Good morning," Keith grunted in reply, and without another word they shouldered their way over to their shared physics class.

The mundane routine left an impression of familiarity within Keith too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Fuck, listening to Professor Slav for an hour gives me a headache. All that shit about realities and crap and how we're _only_ allowed to write our tests in green pen," Lance loudly complained, as he sat down opposite Keith in the café they frequented after their morning classes. He had a carb-free turkey panini on his plate, which wasn't something Lance usually ate but he'd heard Lance complaining a few days ago that he _wanted to be healthier._ Normally, Keith would lean over to pick at Lance's food, but he didn't really feel like eating anything _carb-free._ He was in a very carb-hungry mood.

"Yeah, I've just started tuning it out. As long as I know what chapter we're meant to be up to in the textbook, I'm fine." Thinking of Professor Slav and his infinite everchanging realities whilst sitting across from Lance made Keith think of realities where Keith would be happy. A reality where Lance would sit beside Keith perhaps, and they'd link their hands underneath the table. A reality where Keith wouldn't just point to the froth on Lance's lip, but move forward to press their lips together to remove it.

Was it the winter weather that made Keith feel melancholic? Perhaps so.

Lance shot him a withering look, dabbing at the froth from his skim latte.

"How I envy you, mullet boy. Some of us need to have the curriculum explained to us." Keith wrinkled his nose and poked his tongue out in reply, and Lance mirrored his expression. It left a ridiculously giddy feeling in Keith's stomach.

Silence came between them, as Lance ate his carb-free turkey panini and Keith sipped at his own coffee, rolling over the thought of offering his tutoring to Lance. Would he take it well? Would he get offended? What if Lance thought Keith had some ulterior motive?

The constant roiling of the thought made Keith feel kind of ill, so he decided to just spit it out. Only one way to know, wasn't it?

"If you want, I could always just tutor you in physics. I'm sure I'll stay a little more on topic than Slav," Keith spat out, but held his voice strong so it wouldn't waver under his anxiety. Lance looked at him, eyebrows arched high in shock, before a grin split onto his face. Keith subconsciously wiped his palm onto his jeans, because he was the kind of person that could still _sweat_ with nervousness in the middle of July.

"Really? You'd do that for me?" _I'd do anything for you._ Keith wanted to say that, but kept his mouth shut tight. "That would help me so much! Thank you, bro!"

Instead of professing his undying love for Lance on the spot, Keith smiled and ignored the heat in his cheeks.

"Of course, Lance. That's what best friends are for."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"If you knew it was your last day on Earth, but no one else knew, what would you do?" Lance questioned softly in the early hours of the morning. The sun would rise in a few more hours, but here they were, in a parked car in front of a decrepit children's park. Keith pretended to ponder over the question, but he had known the answer immediately.

_I would tell you I love you, and I would rather die a thousand times than live a life without you._

Maybe now is an appropriate time to tell Lance. Things never matter at four in the morning in a parked car anyways. It'll all be forgotten in the morning. But before Keith could tell him, to unload his shoulders, Lance answered his own question.

"I think I'd tell Allura that I love her."

The hardest thing in the world is pretending you aren't drowning in your own heartbreak right next to the person you love.

"I'd rob a bank," Keith mumbled sarcastically, but it sounded hollow and afraid to him. He was a hollow shell of a man, with just words bouncing around and around inside him. He was weak because he chose the easy route. He was weak because he was hurt over something he already knew.

"Oh I never thought of committing _crime!_ This is what best friends are for! You're so smart."

_Not smart enough to not fall in love with somebody already in love._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Keith's second greatest shame in life, other than being hopelessly in love with his best friend, was his smoking.

He knew it was cliché to sit in a car by yourself at 2 in the morning being melancholic smoking cigarette after cigarette. He knew it was dumb.

Most of his friends, including Lance, thought he'd quit months ago. They were _all so proud_ and _so happy he was finally bettering his health._

It made every nicotine-filled breath just a little more bittersweet.

It was the smallest rebellion in his life. He tried so hard not to rock the boat, to be as carefree as the wind in his relationships. Don’t tell Allura you think her frivolous interest in high-name brands is stupidly materialistic. Don't tell Pidge you don't care about this new gardening technique she is trying out. Don't tell Shiro that sometimes it was hard to be around him when he was in one of his PTSD attacks. Don't tell Hunk that _food_ isn't the answer to _everything._ Don't tell Coran you don't care about his hundreds of childhood stories.

Don't tell Lance you love him. Don't tell Lance you love him.

At least, he could cause tiny ripples in the water by chain-smoking alone in his car so much his throat burned whilst slow music played out of his crackling radio. That was it, that was this, the final product of his fears and anxieties. Swallowing the words he wanted to say, until he could blow them into the air with no one around to see the foulness of it all.

He wished he could cry. That would be a healthier coping mechanism.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hunk hummed as he swung around the kitchen, the warm and good smell of homemade muffins so thick in the air Keith could already taste them. Keith swung himself back and forth on the stool near Hunk, amused by the simple joy of it. He was utterly useless in the kitchen, but he liked being near Hunk as he cooked.

“How are you and Shay going?” Keith asked, because he hadn’t talked to Hunk in a little while. They’d both been busy with college before exams.

“Really good! We’re going out tomorrow for dinner, and I’m thinking of making her some of her favourite cookies. Or should I get her flowe- no. You’re right, the cookies is a better idea.” It was well known that Keith had a distaste for people giving other people flowers on dates. It was a meaningless gesture. Baking cookies means Hunk put time and love into them, instead of stopping in at a store and getting a bunch of coloured weeds. Apparently, his face had told Hunk the answer he needed.

“If they’re the white chocolate macadamia ones, save me some, yeah? That’s the good shit,” Keith requested, although he had forgotten which one was Shay’s favourite. Maybe they were those gross raisin ones?

“Shay is a vegan, remember? She likes the oatmeal and raisin ones.” Keith stuck his tongue out at that, making an unimpressed _bleh_ noise, and Hunk laughed at his expression. “If you want, I can just make you some white chocolate macadamia ones. They’re Lance’s favourite as well, aren’t they? Give some to him, you’ll see him before I will.”

Keith could try to refute that, but he knew he couldn’t. He’d probably see Lance tomorrow night, when he remembered about Hunk on his date with his beautiful girlfriend and remembered how truly alone he was.

“If I don’t eat them all first. Lance doesn’t deserve those cookies, I _do,_ ” Keith argued jokingly, and Hunk smiled and laughed again. It made Keith pleased to see his joke well-received.

“Speaking of _Lance_ ,” Oh dear. The way Hunk said _Lance_ with his eyebrows wiggling like that, Keith already knew what was coming. “When are you going to like… tell him? C’mon man, you can’t wait around forever to tell Lance.”

Keith stopped swinging his chair, and he suddenly felt the urge for a cigarette. Hunk knew he still smoked, he’d get away with it with only a roll of the eyes. That was another reason Keith liked hanging out with Hunk so much, he would keep Keith’s dirty secrets. It was weird, how Keith’s very best friend didn’t know Keith’s two greatest secrets, but Hunk did.

Maybe it was because Keith risked losing Lance if he found out, but Hunk would always be a rock in his life.

“I’m _not_ going to. He loves Allura, dude. I don’t need to hear Lance reject me to know it would never happen. Besides, I’m happy being his friend.” _Liar. Liar. Liar. You’ll never be happy just being his friend._

“No, you’re not. And he’s not in _love_ with Allura. He’s just infatuated with her and hasn’t realised he loves _you._ Trust me, Keith. I’ve been friends with him since we were five.” Keith swallowed in response and cast his eyes to his bag where he could see his packet of cigarettes. “And I have _never_ seen him so blindly in love with someone. He just- he just needs to realise he loves you.”

An angry and bitter feeling rose in Keith’s mouth and heart, and he tried to keep the bite out of his voice when he answered Hunk.

“Well, let me know when he’s realised that. Cause I’m not going to wait around for fucking ever.”

That was another lie. Keith would wait until time came to a standstill if it meant being able to kiss Lance under a starry sky with his arm wrapped around his waist.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was broaching into summer, and they’d managed to find a cool enough day to go for a country-side drive.

The day, rather then being unbearably hot, was at a nice temperature with a cool breeze. It had rained recently, so as they passed through the hills the forestry was a bright green. Somewhere, flowers were blooming, carrying their sweet scent into the old car.

It was _good._ Keith was _happy._ Lance was smiling and laughing and recounting a story of his childhood, as Keith listened. Even though the car they were in had barely functional air-conditioning, and it clicked loudly as it turned left and made a just audible-ticking when it was running, they were _happy_ together. The sun shone just bright enough to not need sunglasses yet still warm their skin. It was a really, really good day.

“And then, _then_ he accused _me_ of eating the last gummy bear! In front of the teacher! I have never been so _offended_ and _incensed_. In the end, though, the teacher found out it was him all along and he got playground privileges taken away for a day. Justice was _served_.” Lance finished his intricate and detailing story of how a kid from kindergarten had first taught Lance that the world was (in his words) ‘a cold, unforgiving son a bitch where it was every man and kindergartner for himself.’

“I’m glad it all worked out for you. Otherwise, you’d be a completely different person now. Much more cynical. We would’ve _never_ gotten along,” Keith joked, and Lance made a cheeky face at him and jabbed Keith in his arm with his finger.

“Yeah. There’s only room for _one_ cynical asshole in this relationship, and you’ve taken that spot very proudly,” Lance jibed back but Keith just laughed softly. He felt Lance’s gaze lingering on him as Keith quieted back down, with a smile still bright on his face. If Keith looked away from the road, maybe they’d share _a look_ together.

Keith didn’t look away. For all his loneliness and whining about Lance never loving him back, he was afraid of what would change between them if Lance _did._

Lance eventually turned back to gaze out his window, chin resting on his hand. He was still smiling too. Keith, only now, spared a glance at Lance’s face. He was so fucking beautiful, Keith feared he’d stare too long and crash the car.

He was in fucking deep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“How is Allura and you going? Any new advances?” Keith asked. Mostly he asked because Lance was always dying to tell him but felt bad bothering Keith by talking about her all the time. A part of him though, would always hope that Lance would tell him _oh yeah, I’m just not into her anymore._

“Um, good I suppose. Dunno, I haven’t talked to her in a couple days.” Lance picked at his nails, as if he were suddenly disinterested in the conversation. That was… _unusual._ Usually Lance was pulling at the bit in excitement to start talking about Allura.

“What? Really?” Keith blurted out, in shock, staring at Lance in bewilderment. Lance shrugged, still staring intently at his fingers. He was _nervous._

Subconsciously, Keith began to flex his fingers until each joint popped.

“Yeah. I don’t know, I guess I’m just not… feeling _it_ anymore,” Lance sighed, staring at the ceiling. “Well, that lasted longer then usual. Always knew it would end anyways.” Lance was acting so- so _nonplussed_ by it, as if he hadn’t been literally raving about Allura for _two fucking years._

“What- what changed?” This time, Lance looked straight at Keith, and there was an unsettling emotion deep in his eyes, blue like an azure sky. He stared at Keith for a long time, too long to be anything _casual._ Or maybe that was just Keith being a dumb hopeful romantic.

“Nothing. Nothing changed.” For some reason, Keith didn’t think Lance was lying at all. “I think I did.”

_Tell him. Tell him now._

“Lance I-“ The words evaporated from his mouth, leaving him looking stupid like a gaping fish. Lance was looking at him with _that_ expression, the star-struck one he used to use on Allura. This isn’t happening. This is all Keith’s imagination. If it was, then there was no harm in saying the truth, right? Right?

Then why was Keith’s heart beating so fucking loudly it was painful?

“Lance, I- I’m in l-love with you.” The words choked him as they came out, and _God_ he was going to be sick he was so fucking nervous, waiting for Lance’s reaction.

There was no reaction. Lance’s face just softened, and then he smiled. He wasn’t surprised or horrified.

“I know, Keith.” _He knows. How long has he fucking known?_ “I think I’m in love with you too, and I have been for a while.”

What. What?

“Keith, don’t look so shocked when someone tells you they love you back.” Lance was laughing, actually _laughing_ as if he hadn’t just- just told Keith he _loved_ him back.

Three years. Three fucking _years_ Keith has been harbouring this, carrying it around with him like he was Atlas. And it was all just- just _over._ All _okay_ in the span of- what? Five minutes?

“I just- I didn’t- I didn’t expect you to say it back.” Keith said truthfully. Why _would_ he expect Lance to say it back? Keith had been trailing in Lance’s shadow for _years_ , waiting for this or for Lance to get sick of him and leave him. Keith had always assumed it would end up being the latter.

“Do you think you’re undeserving, Keith?” Now Lance looked sad, and he had scooted closer. Keith was frozen, frozen in front of Lance. Did he think he was undeserving of love? No, he just thought he was undeserving of Lance’s love.

Because Lance was loud and bright and full of colours from a thousand spectrums. He got along with everyone, and everyone loved him. Lance was untouchable in all his glory. But _Keith?_ Keith was _dull._ He was snarky, and people thought he was an asshole. But he was easy to push around, to kick about. Keith was just a background character in Lance’s life.

And then Lance shuffled closer, and gently placed his hand on Keith’s cheek.

“I can tell you now, you aren’t. You’re so smart, and funny, and beautiful. I’ve always known that. I just never- I was too stupid to realise that the reason why I thought about _you_ all the fucking time, was because I was in love with you.” Lance’s voice was barely above a whisper, and their faces were so close, all Keith had to do was lean forward the tiniest bit and their lips would touch. Still though, Keith was convincing himself none of this was happening, that it was all a lie, that he was watching Lance confess to someone else. “I know you don’t see it. You don’t see that you are so full of love that you’ve left no room in your heart for yourself. You’re such a beautiful person, Keith, and I’m very in love with you, and I have been since day one. It’s just taken me this long.”

Keith couldn’t take it, he couldn’t take waiting anymore. Not another day, not another hour, not another minute and not another second. He couldn’t waste anymore of his breath on cigarettes in the middle of the night. He couldn’t waste anymore of his time lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and waiting, waiting, waiting. He’d waited so fucking long. He’d waited so fucking _long._ If he didn’t kiss Lance right now, then it was all a lie. Then it was all for nothing. All of this, all of these fucking _headlight’s illuminating_ and _impressions of love_.

Lance had never _been_ an impression of love. He _was_ love. He was where the car rumbled to a stop, headlights finally resting on some _thing._ Something like _home._

That was what Keith found, when he pressed their lips together in a starving kiss. _Home._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave your kudos and comments, they mean like. So fucking much to me. A lot of this was like... me ranting about my own love life. But if I'm not known for self-projecting, what am I known for?  
> Also I'm still super hurt by the end of Voltron. KICK bitches.  
> tumblr: saffron-skies  
> Check out my other works!


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